I think I am finally waking up. Slowly, but surely.  Left eyelid. Right eyelid. That’s it. Wide awake.

Feels like it’s been a long night of research.

I look around, searching for clues to my location. After a moment of analysis I deduct (Sherlock Holmes would be proud of me) that I’m in a room of one of the finest hotels of Finland. My arm is wrapped around some cute redhead French goth girl.

Right. Research. I was planning on writing about something when I set out to go to town yesterday. What was it? The girl turns a bit and mumbles something in her sleep.

It tastes like I’ve been singing last night. Lyrics still stuck somewhere to the back of my mouth. Karaoke.

Damnit.

How long have I been out? When was the last time I updated the blog? I remember people bugging me about it for a long time.

I try not to wake the girl up and go get a glass of water. That helps a bit. It’s pretty incredible what singing can do to one’s throat. I squint my eyes to the direction of the curtains and decide not to open them. Instead I sit down to write down some thoughts into my little black notebook. These will come handy later-on when I recall this moment later and blog about it. I’m sure of it.

• Society’s norms
• Buy a new hat
• Language
• Culture (introvert)
• studies/work
• Metal!

Well, could be that the list is not that helpful.

There was some thing on my mind I was supposed to write about. I look around. The damn room is a mess. At least the TV is intact. Reminds me of some cruises I’ve been on.

Time to focus, man. Think of the blog. Think of the damn readers. Which month is it?

I listen to the sounds of traffic and people behind the window for a while and think of all the conversations I’ve been having lately. Figure out a common thread and just write. What’s so great about this country? So great that these people are dropping their lives in better places and just heading here.

I’ve made a few new foreign friends since I started writing Finnish Beauty and reconnected a bit with a couple old ones. Sort of making an effort to hear the “why Finland?” from them.

The first one I want to mention is Kisu, a PhD student who just moved here to do the same weird, unethical genetic research stuff my sister is into. Since her arrival she’s been a constant source of really strange lines that haven’t really made sense to me when I’ve heard them. Lines like “But the Finns are so wonderful and helpful people.” and “Everyone has been so nice to me.”

We’re not wonderful or helpful or nice. We’re grumpy people who keep to ourselves. We don’t talk to strangers!

But the more I think about it, the more I have to agree with her. She’s right.

If you were to ask a Finn for help, it would stun them for first 10 seconds as they’re try to figure out what it is that’s happening – no-one ever stops you and asks you for anything here. Well, actually, no-one talks to you for any reason. Period. But after that 10 second pause, my, and probably a regular Finn’s as well, gut reaction would be to do anything to help the poor soul. I’ve seen tattoo shop owners call through all their friends to arrange a last-minute tattoo time for someone who needs the work done in three days before they leave abroad. I’ve gone through bookstore shelves to help a woman find the latest Stieg Larsson book from the shelf since she didn’t know what she was looking for and I seemed like I could know.

So yeah. We do help. It’s just the we don’t ever get asked for help. And we don’t offer it without someone asking.

But back to Kisu. She’s just arrived and will be staying for a few years, working on her PhD. So she’s still in awe of the exotic nature and whatnot. And one can easily understand the reason for her coming here. Finland is where work is, just a stop on the road of academia.

The ones who are giving me more headache are these completely random people, who just love Finland and come here without any sense in their head.

I’ve mentioned Ry before, but she’s sort of one of those people. Just dropping everything and coming here. Literally packing into her car what she could fit and driving here. Not looking back (except for like a couple of CDs she’s missing)

I think she’s come around a bit over the years. It’s not all sunshine and wonders as it is for those who have just arrived. She knows to hate the winter like a proper Finn and knows how to complain about everything. But still, she’s staying here. A feat of strength. When I asked her why here, I think the answer was something along the lines of:

Well, I wanted to go somewhere. Was fed up with where I was living and well, ‘anywhere but here’ sounded just like the place I wanted to be. Also, since I’m a linguist at heart, going to a place with an exotic (non-Indo-European) language like Finnish was intriguing.

And yeah, there’s also the fact that people here don’t want to party in public all the time. This is a great place if you’re an introvert. No-one’s bugging you if you don’t want to be bugged.

Well. She’s making sense.

But! Seriously!

They’re both sort of special cases. Really. Have to be.

So. Who else do I know then. Besides those who’ve come here after work or who are like Ry? There are the few goths and metalheads.

I take a look at the list I wrote. Yeah. Last couple of points on it fit these people. For them, a big thing seems to be “Finland not only accepts us, but welcomes us with open arms.”

Yup. This is the country where it’s not uncommon for the girl at the local shop stacking bananas into a neat pile to have a couple of facial piercings. Or the person on the counter of the airline to have a bright magenta hair to go with her cheerful smile. This is the place where you’re as likely to see a trash metal band on the top of the sales charts as you are for example Lady Gaga. Here, wearing black doesn’t label you as antisocial and dangerous. Just another person. Quite typical a person, in fact.

“This place is just amazing! You guys have Ville Valo! And The 69 Eyes! And Lonkero!  And this korvapuusti is AMAZING! Why wouldn’t one want to live here? Ooh! Cute! I want one!”

Whoa. Flashbacks from the previous night. Yeah. I was definitely singing yesterday.

It was a damn metal karaoke place. With my sis, her boyfriend, and a couple of friends. All the people I knew beforehand left early. I just had to wait for one more song.

A heavy metal karaoke. Right. Only in Finland. That’s why I was going there to do research. I was planning on writing an entry on the Finnish metal karaoke thing.

Now, who on earth was the person I was just quoting. Right. Santtu, the Aussie. Damnit, I need to write about her misadventures here at some point. So many things to write. How long was I out anyways.

Now that I’m finally on track about what I was going to write, I take a deep breath, pick up the pen and start making notes about the Finnish Karaoke culture. It’s pretty unique cons…

Wait a moment. The notebook says “Buy a new hat”.

Where did I put my hat? I think I had a hat yesterday. Did I? I look around for it.

No hat to be seen anywhere.

And another thing… Whose hotel room is this anyway? And who are all these people?

I hate it when stress starts building up on. For me it has a damn snowball that builds into an avalanche. Something starts lagging behind, it keeps nagging in my head and then it gets harder to focus working on the next thing, that might start lagging behind as well. Been a bit behind on everything lately as things pile up. So, it’s Friday night, I’m sitting at Mi&Mi’s computer, somewhere near the city centre of Tampere, typing this while there are drunk people around me talking about love and relationships. Yes, I know I’m being lame, but the party’s been over for a while and I have the time to write now.

It’s a very bleak and cold Saturday a few weeks ago. After a damn busy day of shopping, carrying bags, moving furniture around and whatnot, I’m psyching myself to go somewhere. I mean really forcing myself to get into the mood of going out. It’s not really working well. I’d rather just relax a bit. I know I still have some stuff to do, but sis had called me earlier and made me promise to go get some drinks and have fun with her after we’re both finished with our regular days. The clock booms 8 p.m., I decide that I’m almost done and give her a call.

“Oh, I think I’ll be okay to go around ten or so, is that cool with you?” she asks

“Sure, I’ll get a cab when I’m done here and will head to your place then.”

Half an hour later than planned, the taxi arrives at her house.

“I’ll be out in a sec. Just give me a minute!”

The meter is running. The taxi driver asks if I’ve ever considered a career as a singer. There is snow falling slowly from the sky. Dum-de-dum. The driver’s telling a tragic story of some Greek singer who reminds him of me. Damn. It’s not going to be one of those nights when the weather is warm. I wonder if I should have worn something else tonight? Where should we go? I wonder what’s the meaning of life? The tale the cabbie is telling sounds tragic. Something about a fan getting killed by accident. Why is he telling me this? Who is this guy? Oh, he’s a news reporter for some foreign channel, who has a second job as a taxi driver. Makes sense. Wait… I decide to ask more, when sis runs out from her house, looking all exhausted and ready to go. Finally.

“Sorry it took a moment! I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to go or not, so I wasn’t really ready when you called that you were almost here!”

“Wait, you weren’t sure either?”

“I’m so totally hungover from last night you don’t even want to know. Wait… What’s your excuse?”

“Been running errands for mom all day. And when I was about to head out I got rewarded with one of her ‘small’ meals. Feel like I just want to roll into bed.”

“Sheesh. I feel your pain. So? We have a taxi, so we’re not backing out anymore. Tiger? Cuba?”

“Cuba! We went to Tiger just the other week and I know you hate the place. We’ll have the best night ever. Family night out and all that shit!” The enthusiasm in my voice is 100% fake.

We get to Cuba. I like the place, even if it’s a bit out of the way. Upon entry some random drunk guy tries to pick up on my sis with a pick-up line that, from what I can hear, sounds pretty much like “brewwwghmn?”, she tells him I’m her boyfriend. The cute girls next to the guy hear this of course. Naturally. What else.

One thing I like about Cuba is the music of the place. Usually it’s a positive soundtrack with latest hits combined with classics, with emphasis being on the classics side. Now it’s even better. There is a live saxophone player alongside the DJ, bringing a fluid, organic, and most of all, strange atmosphere groove. 90s with a twist. We make a passing pop culture reference to an old animation we used to watch as kids and then Ay (I have to call her something else than “the sister”, or it gets annoying in long posts like this) starts.

“So. First things first. I’m not going to drink anything tonight. I’m feeling way too nauseous. Was puking my guts out a few hours ago. How about we go take over the dance floor, family style?”

“Oh joy,” I take a deep sigh, “Well, that means I’m not going to have much to drink either. No fun in only one of us being a complete fool. And didn’t you hear a word I said earlier. I am not going to move anytime soon, let alone dance. Mom had some meat stew thing. that I just had to eat or else I would have offended her.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want that, momma’s boy.”

“Why you little…”

“Ooh, look, free chairs!!” she heads to safety from my reach.

Now. We’ve had awesome nights together out and about. New Year’s comes to mind. No additional people required. But it looks like neither of us are really in the mood. No matter how nicely the music beats in the background – Madonna or something else light, with the addition of the saxophone. This could work on a different night. This would be awesome on any other night, really. I’m just tired, and I think the sis is in a bit of a bitchy mood even if we both try to keep up appearances.

“We’re having fun!”

Silence.

“Party?”

Silence

“Yay, party?”

“Yay.”

“Party.”

Silence. Awkwardly long.

“We’re not really having that much fun are we?”

“Nope. Not really. No. Not at all.”

Once we start realizing we’re not having fun, the mood starts getting tedious. We start squabbling in no time at all, and then just sit there, annoyed at each other like we were 5-year-olds or something. Eventually a danceable song that we both like starts playing and without a word we head to the dance floor. Not that you can really call it a floor, there is barely room to move there.

Way too many people here tonight. I’m too full from the food still. Or maybe I’m just not in the mood. And could use a break from Ay and her grumpyness. Bloody family sometimes.

“I’ll go to the bathroom, be right back.”

“Sure. Whatever. I’ll stay dancing.”

If you’ve never been to Cuba, the lines to the bathrooms are legendary. Truly. Unisex toilets, 2 small stalls. Long queue. People being drunk so they take their time in the stalls. It’s funny how the need to be urinating is a great conversation starter sometimes. I chat with the girls from earlier (the ones who think I have a girlfriend) on while we wait in line. I’m actually starting to have some fun and find myself slipping to a more social role, forgetting about the sis and the stupid fight and all that. Don’t know how long we actually keep talking.

And I notice Ay sitting at a table, looking a bit gloomy. She’s been a bit off all evening, come to think of it. A quick priorities check later, I ditch the group and head back to her.

“Ok. Tonight’s not a night to party. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Yeah, sounds like an idea.”

We walk to the taxi line.

“What’s up? You seem a bit bummed.”

“Nah, nothing,” she claims

“I know you’re lying, but since you passed on your shot to go first with the whining, I’ll start. Might take a couple of hours. You can tell me your problems after that.”

“Bah. You’re supposed to ask at least twice, you jerk!”

“Okay, okay. What’s up?”

Trying to get back on the track now.

Sorry about that.

Rewind to last summer. I’m standing in the middle of a small town square, eating the most delicious hamburger I’ve probably ever tasted. It’s the bachelor party of one of my old friends. While the actual party that’s taking place in a cabin in the woods somewhere in the middle of nowhere, we came to the nearest town here to go to the local bar. Get a feel of the culture outside Helsinki. After a bar we found a nightclub here where we really dominated the dance floor. And now we’re eating grill food from the local food stand.

It doesn’t have to be fancy. It doesn’t have to be posh. Small towns can be incredible fun. You just need the right people and the right attitude.

I’m meditating on this thought and it’s last Saturday, around eight in the evening. It usually is, come to think of it. And guided by this meditation, I pick up the phone.

“Lou.” The person on the other end answers, apparently confused by the fact I’m calling him. I admit, it’s been a while.

“Hi. What are you doing in an hour?”

“Uhmn. What?”

“You. At nine?”

“Uh. Nothing.”

“Ok, I’m going to need you for a few moments. Maybe a couple of hours.”

“Whuh?”

“Great, get ready.”

“Ok…”

I hang up and a couple of minutes later I have to call him again.

“A change of plans. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Get dressed! I looked at the time wrong.”

“Wait, what?”

“Go go go!”

It’s about 9pm. We’re sitting in a car on Lahdentie. Me, Lou and Mei. I’m driving. Mei and Lou are trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

“So, originally you and Ptr were planning on going to some party at Otaniemi around eleven, and then he calls you just before nine he’ll be picking you up right now?”

“Yup. Do you have any idea where we’re going? He hasn’t told me anything.” Mei is apparently a bit worried we might not make it to Otaniemi by eleven. She’s so right.

“Well, on this road, the possible places are Korso, Kerava and Tuusula. I don’t see anything good happening to us when we get there in the next 20 minutes. Let’s just wait patiently and see what the crazy guy has planned for us.”

20 minutes later.

“Ptr?”

“Yeah?”

“We just went past Tuusula, didn’t we?”

“Yup.”

“Don’t tell me we’re going to Lahti?”

“Ok, I won’t tell you that.”

“Dude. What?!”

Lou is an old friend of mine. From ages ago. We sort of lost Lou for a while when he got married and got a kid, but he’s made a comeback lately (Still married, don’t worry). He’s the guy I was going to see Nouvelle Vague with back in 2007, so he’s not really surprised that I might pull off something like grab people from their homes and drive them to Lahti.

And it means a world to Mei to have him here. While I still keep in touch with Lou because of hobbies, Mei sees him maybe once a year, if that. And these two are like a sister and a brother. Lou’s an artist, Mei’s a scholar. But still they are best friends. Well, when they happen to see each other. Their approach to the situation is completely different. Lou is curious, Mei might actually be a bit worried what’s going on.

“Ptr?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we going to do something I’m going to hate?”

“Probably, why?”

“No, seriously. I should be preparing for a seminar.”

“Well, you were going to Otaniemi today, it’s not like you would have gotten a chance to anyways.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“Oh, come on, it’s gonna be fun,” Lou saves me from having to convince Mei, “I know Lahti pretty well, used to hang a lot there when I was younger. They for example have these awesome mugs-of-kebab there that you can eat… Wait, we have to turn here if we want to get to Lahti.”

I wave at the intersections as they go by.

A brief moment of silence as it sinks in.

“We’re not going to Lahti, are we?”

“Nope, you might want to get a beer from the back. This will take a moment more.”

“Dude, what the hell do you have planned for us?”

To those who don’t know what sort of distances we’re talking about, we’re about 100 kilometers (bit over 60 miles) north from Helsinki right now and the road keeps going on.

After a lot of wondering and singing along to Mokoma, I pull over the car at a information stop / road map of Heinola. We walk to the map.

“Ok, try to find Ravintola Tukkijätkä from there somewhere.”

There is a moment of silence. Footsteps walking towards the car. The sound of the car door. Some rummaging. And then the sound of a beer can opening. Followed by footsteps back to behind me and a fatherly sigh, the one that Lou pulls off so very well.

“You’re saying that you drove us to Heinola to go to a place called Tukkijätkä.”

“Yup.”

Tukkijätkä is a guy who rafts timber. Closest analogy in English would be Lumberjack. So I’m taking them to a place called “Restaurant Lumberjack”

Hence the beer.

“Why?”

“There is a gig there tonight. Irina is playing. But probably we’re late from the gig already, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“You drove us to Hollola, to a place called Ravintola Tukkijätkä, to listen to Irina. You do realize that I’m going to gut you alive for this.” Mei is looking like she’s about to do exactly that.

“Not Hollola, Heinola!”

“Whatever dude, it’s outside Ring III.”

But wait. It gets better.

10 minutes later we arrive at Tukkijätkä, and there is a sign outside saying “Sold out.”

So, we’re at Heinola, without anything to do. There is a big blonde guy and a small furious brunette chick staring at me.

“Dudes. Wait! Don’t kill me yet, the night is still salvageable. Let’s walk this way, we’re sure to find something to do. The evening is not lost, come on guys!” I take a few steps towards what probably is the center of Heinola.

Something’s off. A memory creeps up my spine…

Shit. I’ve been here before. The bachelor party was here. This is the same bloody small town.

“Oh my god. I know this place.”

“What?”

“Follow me!” I start running.

It’s four hours later, we’re standing in the middle of the town square of Heinola, I’m eating the most delicious hamburger.

“Ok, that was just horrible,” Mei says while devouring french fries from a dish bigger than her head, “I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in ages!”

Lou says something in agreement while enjoying a mug-of-kebab-meat. I have no idea what he’s saying, but he’s smiling and munching down food.

I smile and nod. It doesn’t have to be fancy. It doesn’t have to be posh. Small towns can be incredible fun. You just need the right people.

Remember Tampere? The place where the streets are empty, there are no sights to see, the weather is cold, and the friendliest face I can find is the hotel receptionist. Well, I’m back, standing in the middle of what I assume to be the central square of this city and thinking “Oh, srsly?”

It’s about 3 months after the Great Christmas Trip of 2009, and the reason I’m quoting Grey’s Anatomy is… *drumroll*… the weather. I’ve just spent 2.5 hours driving from Helsinki to Tampere in a weather that is best described in words that are not suitable for live studio audiences. It started off as gray and uninspiring and by the time we were looking for a parking space, there was a full-blown blizzard trying to throw our car into the nearby buildings.

To get the full irony of the moment, a flashback to early this morning is in order. In this said flashback, imagine me being all cheerful and saying “Oh, the spring is finally here!” to my unimpressed co-workers. Clearly, in Finland, there just is no escaping the winter, is there?

I slowly rotate 360 degrees to get a good feel of my surroundings. Looking south is painfully impossible because the snowflakes want to dig deep into my eyeballs at supersonic speed. But in the other directions, the city looks exactly the way it did on December. Well, the snow is a bit more moist.

But still.

Srsly.

What the fuck is wrong with the weather in this place?

I’m here with a few Finns and a German. We’ve come to see a gig at a small café that holds about 20 people, and there’s 5 of us.

Interesting statistics of us five: Each one of us knows only two other persons in the car. Except the German, who knows just one. Each and every one of us has done capoiera at some point of their lives. Except the girl who sat on the front seat. And every single one of us had a relaxing drive here. Except me, who had to focus on not getting us all killed a lot. My hands are still a bit white from holding on to the steering wheel. Or might be the freezing cold. Hard to say. Either way, not exactly healthy.

We walk a couple of blocks in the snowstorm to Kahvila Valo, where the gig is just starting when we enter. Upon entry to the café, the artist introduces us to the rest of the people who are there, and we go occupy the last big table available (she knows two of the group beforehand, so that’s why we get introductions) I fetch a cup of Maté from the counter and settle down on our table. I don’t really have any idea what we’re going to hear, but all my doubts go away when the girl behind the piano starts singing a wonderful cover version of one of my all time favorite songs.

Robert Plant & Alison Krauss – Sister Rosetta Goes Before Us

The gig ends way too soon, but at least I finally have some time to get to know the new people who have been in my car, we have loads of time before we have to hit the road.

And frankly, I don’t want to hit the road. It was painful to drive here. I don’t want to go there again just yet.

The German is a blast, as ze Germans usually are . We already talked a lot on the way here, but you can never really get to the finer nuances of who someone is when you’re trying to keep a drifting car on a road at 100km/h. This guy studies journalism in Germany and it’s his first time in Finland. He’s pretty much the same way I am when it comes to foreign cities – It doesn’t matter if there aren’t that many grand spectacles to see in Helsinki. He’s just been soaking in the atmosphere and enjoying the feeling of the city.

He, for some reason, finds Helsinki a wonderful place. When I ask “what’s so great?” He replies without hesitation “Well, the sauna for example.”

Well, even I can’t argue with that. He’s talking about our public saunas. They are a damn great thing. Especially in the winter. Man, I wonder how long it has been since I’ve last been to a proper sauna.

I talk a while with the Finns as well. One of them is pulling a “Dropping everything and getting the hell out of this country” stunt, which I think is kind of awesome, and something I’ve heard many of my friends dreaming of. Heading to somewhere warm and tropic. No idea what to do there, but figuring out that it would be better than here. Sunlight. Warmth.

And as a total opposite, I end up having a conversation about the meditative nature of that perfect moment of silence in the Finnish winter. Just walking to some field with nothing but snow in sight. And no sounds of life anywhere to be heard. It’s nice to meet someone who has shared that wonderful moment. The peace and quiet. The tranquil colors.

I exchange a couple of words with the girl who was singing, thank for the performance, pretty much. And then it’s time to head back home. We walk out of the café. The snowfall has ended. The sky has taken a purplish hue from the city lights getting reflected from the clouds. The sounds of the city are dampened. Everything just feels tranquil and perfect.

We enjoy the moment. Talking about how it’s wonderful that the ride back will be nice and relaxed, compared to the storm on the way here. The songs from the gig still echoing in our mind. For a moment, it feels like every bad thing in the world disappears.

It’s 15 minutes later.

We’re back on the big road between Tampere and Helsinki, and the Blizzard is back. I’m holding on to the steering wheel with both hands, fearing for our lives.

There is no escaping the damn winter here, is there?

]]> http://finnish-beauty.com/2010/03/20/srsly/feed/ 3 http://finnish-beauty.com/2010/03/10/crash-and-burn-live-and-learn/ http://finnish-beauty.com/2010/03/10/crash-and-burn-live-and-learn/#comments Wed, 10 Mar 2010 07:08:22 +0000 Ptr http://finnish-beauty.com/?p=335 This is actually a post that splintered from the Synchronicity one somewhere around halfway through writing it. I realized I was talking about two things and that I had a lot more to say about both of them than was practical for a single entry. So now there are two.

It’s one of these days. Friday morning, I’m driving through the traffic and the snow to go to a Very Important Meeting. Sometimes it feels like that’s all I’m doing these days. At least on these few days a month they seem to be all clustered into. Yesterday was like this, today’s going to be too.

I’d rather just be doing my job, not talk about it with clients. If I liked customers, I’d be doing customer service jobs to begin with.

I survive the meeting, and 3 hours later, I’m grabbing a sandwich for lunch and finally getting to do some actual work. Well, at least until I have to head to the next Very Important Meeting. As said, it’s one of these days.

During that later one, I get 3 texts – Mi (the girl one of Mi&Mi) is in Helsinki and asks if I have time to see her after work; There is an album release gig of a former roommate of a friend of Kat’s later in the evening and I should go; And my sister is heading to Baker’s with some of her work buddies after work, and I absolutely need to be there.

Combine these invitations with that the fact that Pens is having a house party (the legendary sort that you’d be a fool to miss), that there is a house-warming party at another friend’s new place that I’ve sworn I’d be going no matter what comes up, and that I’ve sort of convinced myself to go to eat properly after work.

Yeah, I can already see that I’m going to have a very tight schedule today. Quick look at the time. It’s three in the afternoon. All should be manageable if I don’t spend too much time on one thing. And at least, thinking map-wise, all the places where I should be at are quite near to each other.

Eventually my eight hour work day is over. Time to go grab some actual food (one ham sandwich just isn’t enough for a full day) at the nearby restaurant. The very same where there was that one waitress that my sister thought would really be my type. There is a sort of a perfect moment for it, so I find myself asking her out. She declines. Crap. For some reason “Crash and Burn, Live and Learn” feels like a good motto to adopt right about now. At least I have the perfect answer the next damn time my sis asks “Have you considered asking that waitress out on a date?”

I head out the restaurant (Note to self: Figure out a new lunch place. Also, think of excuses to tell work buddies on why you can no longer go there) and call Mi, who is just heading out from Kiasma.

She tells me, sounding extremely weary, how she’s been to a lot of meetings during the day as well (some important art people maybe? Dunno? Mi is a painter who has sold her works internationally. So my best guess on what’s she’s doing at meetings in Helsinki would be her agent or some future client) and now, according to her words, is “far too tired to see anyone.” She lets out a dramatic sigh (something that would suit a flapper perfectly) and tells me how it would have been delightful to see me again, but that it will just have to wait. She has style. I admit that. I let her know that it’s okay, I’ll live.

And don’t tell her that once the call is over I’m letting out a sigh of relief as my schedule seems to be getting so much easier. Only 20 hours of people to fit into some 6 hours or so remains.

So, next stop. Baker’s. I have mixed feelings about this place. It’s really a wonderful place to go to during the evenings, but gets dreadfully overcrowded and loud once the dance floor opens. Today our table is full of my sister’s work buddies who are celebrating a good week of well-cloned sheep or whatever unethical research it is that they do at the lab. A moment later Mitch joins us. Apparently miraculously cured from whatever it is that was bothering him on Wednesday.

A former co-worker of my sis opens up the subject that I keep talking about a lot these days - Finns feel awfully close to their stereotypes once you’ve spent some time abroad. You just don’t get into conversations with strangers here. He’s been to South America for a year and I find myself agreeing with his points a lot and providing my support for his claims with the experiences I’ve had lately.

My personal sad example on Finns being unapproachable comes from a small party a couple of weeks ago.

I go there because I was invited by one of the Finns I met in Norway last year and was told that it’s going to be a fun event with music, drinks and dancing. Event with a lot of friends, and friends of friends present. So, I mosey there, still fresh from the amazing openness that I’d gotten used to enjoying while abroad, and am greeted with what? Room full of people, huddled in groups of three or four, talking amongst themselves, about the same things they always talk about.

I’m perplexed.

I try to approach. First the few people I sort of know. And then others. While I claim success in the end, I find that it’s actually hard work to get to talk with these people, people who are supposed to be friendlies. Everyone is in their comfort zone with the group they’re there with and a “stranger” just doesn’t fit in.

I have this sense of being the ultimate outsider, the one who has lost the Finnish ability to sit around a table and not say anything until you’re too drunk to say anything intelligent. It really starts to get taxing on my nerves and psyche. I actually feel physically exhausted because of this after the party.

We talk about this sort of experiences for a while at Baker’s and after that I bid the people there farewell and I head out to the neighboring club to listen to the gig with Kat. She’s there with some other friends of her already, and I end up having the same discussion with one of them who has just come back from Miami. Everyone agrees, Finns are very closed and hard to approach and you can’t really talk about anything real with them.

Yeah, it’s paradoxical to keep talking about that with strangers who are Finns. It’s not lost on me.

It sort of feels good to find a peer group of others who share the view.

The band starts to play. I head to the floor. They’re actually damn good.

More talking after the gig. The DJ playing one of my favorite dance tunes of the moment, so dancing. Enjoying the music. Talking with strangers. Talking about strangers. Talk of Singstar. Ah, karaoke, the secret Finnish weakness. I allow myself to enjoy the moment for a while. I still have lots of time.

I get a text message from Pens: “A party of legends! You really should have been here! Where were you?”

I look at the time. It’s 3 a.m.

I look up from my watch. I’m standing outside in the blistering cold, somewhere a few dozen miles North from Helsinki.

Wouldn’t be hard to imagine a wolf howl in the distance right about now. The wind is picking speed.

I suck at making plans. I really do.

Live and learn…

It’s the year 2007, around the beginning of March. I’ve just come back home from a short-yet-awesome trip to Sweden, where I was listening to some music. Even if I didn’t really have any time on the trip to do anything besides go to the said gig, I had an awesome time. The trip was damn well worth it.

Granted, I am at the moment sitting in front of my computer, writing a blog entry on the said trip. I have a need to make it sound as cool as humanly possible – the original plan for me was to go there with a friend, and he decided to bail on me at the last moment. Thus I’m making the blog post to rub it in, make sure he won’t make the same mistake twice. Well, to tell the truth, he got ill, so he sort of has an excuse. But nevertheless I did end up in Stockholm all alone, without anyone to share the experience with. So I have to make it sound like it was the greatest thing since sliced bread. He’d do the same for me if I couldn’t have made it.

Now, I might want make the blog post sound like that, but the fact is, looking back, that the whole experience was really awesome. The band performed very differently on stage than on disc and I was left with a feeling of “wow, cool” when I was walking out from Berns.

And Berns.

Oh boy, is that venue wonderful or what. It’s really classic. Sort of like our Wanha, except ten times as cool. And at the trip, I had a wonderful opportunity to compare the local party populace with us Finns. And I can comment so much – we lack style. A long way to go for us in this department.

Berns in all the glory.

I keep talking about the year 2007 (or, as I usually tend to refer to it “a couple of years ago”) a lot these days. The reason for that is the fact that I’m living it again. The things that I did and that were a part of my life back then are part of it now. To give a perfect example –  Go back to the point where I said “It’s the year 2007″ (before the photo, a couple of paragraphs up. Yeah, there.) and replace that with “It’s the year 2010″. And suddenly you can read the story of last Wednesday. Yeah. Things are happening in amazing replay motions. Again. And I’m left wondering how on earth did that happen.

Sure, the stories are not identical, but still eerily similar… Basically, the previous time I went to Berns to see a gig it was 2007, and the band playing was Nouvelle Vague. Last Wednesday it was La Roux. In 2007, it was Lou who was down with a stomach flu and had to cancel the trip, this year Mitch had some sort of a … thing. Dunno really. Probably just a two-day long hangover. And so on and so forth. But the basic big picture stays the same and a fact remains.

2007 is haunting me.

The work I’m doing these days is disturbingly similar to the stuff I was doing back then in many ways (wish I could discuss it in more detail, but NDAs are damned strict). And of course, like I’ve mentioned, there are suddenly people who I haven’t heard from in three years, who have come back to be a part of my life.

Small things. Synchronicity. The combined effect makes me feel like I’m getting thrown back through time and living an old lifetime of mine.

Now. In my life I’ve been a goth, a raver, a computer geek, an academic, an office worker, an archivist, an artist, a lumberjack, a mathematician, a musician. Okay, not a good musician, but you should hear my rendition of Greensleeves on the classical guitar before making any final call on that. I’ve been left wing, right wing. I’ve been green, red and blue. I’ve been a mystic, a scholar, a scientist, a doer, a thinker. I’ve been this and I’ve been that. And the change can be sort of a sudden from being one thing to being something completely different.

While it’s not really a change that shows on the outside so well, it’s still quite apparent in who I deal with and how I spend my days – When I considered myself a goth, I don’t think I ever wore black clothes, dyed my hair black, or wore makeup. I did however, listen to the music, hung around with people who had an appreciation to the lifestyle, and drank Snakebites. And while I don’t own a flannel shirt or an axe to remind me from the days I was chopping down trees in Pirkanmaa, my life was about being in the nature and discussing the finer details of various chainsaws. I didn’t get myself a pair of trendy black-rimmed glasses when I became a graphic designer, but it doesn’t mean that I am any less a graphic designer – macs, trendy coffee and disdain for those coders, who just don’t understand what I’m talking about, fill my head.

Luckily my closest friends and family have gotten pretty used to this over the years, so they know how to cope. The essentials of me don’t really change, so they stick around, even if the crowd around me tends to keep changing.

Now, I’ve had this feeling of living an old lifetime a few times before. I remember having a similar deja vu some half a dozen years ago when I had somehow ended up back at the Helsinki University of Technology after swearing never to go there again. That was also the time I decided I needed a really big change and went to the forestry route.

But this time the weird thing is that it doesn’t feel bad to be back here. Sure, I get the sensation of  ”wait, this again?” every now and then, when going to Sweden again to listen to a gig, or talking with people who I had thought disappeared, but the fact is that I think I’ve missed this life the past few years.

At least it’s fun to write about.

P.S. Mitch. Damn the gig was great. You should have been there. The band was awesome and the people were just the sort you would have enjoyed meeting. And the weather was perfect. Everything was shiny!

Mm. Events.

I just received my ticket for LABYRINTH // LASERPOINT // WHITEOUT, which is the first techno/dance event (I don’t really know what else to call it? It’s too big a thing to be called a rave, right?) I’ve been to in years. In fact, I haven’t been a person who would go to such events in quite a few lifetimes. Yet, I’m apparently going again.

Dubai rekindled my love for the music, and talking with some British friends who were psyched to see Proteus perform live (whom I remember seeing from what, 10 years back) made me realize how much I’ve missed the scene in Finland. So, come April, it’s time to suit up in all white, go pouncing on the dance floor. Still need to buy a few additions to make my outfit the way way I want, but awesome parties require some awesome purchases.

With everything I’m doing and everywhere I’m going, I’m slowly feeling like I’m reincarnating the me from a summer a couple of years ago – I was really doing things, going to places. Working my ass off to get enough money to do what I wanted to do. Participating in things that felt fun. I must admit that it’s probably writing this blog has gotten me closer to that again. I’m spending time thinking of places to go to and people to see. At first it was so I would have something to write about. Now, I’m again remembering how much fun it was. Doing things.

And doing things results in things I can look back on.

It’s summer of 2007. I think.

We’re heading to Provinssirock with a group of friends. The plan is to see Tori Amos live, and her gig is starting something like 21:00, sharp. I’m driving through Helsinki, straight from work where I’ve had to spend overtime on some project and now the schedule to get to Seinäjoki is falling apart around me.

We have a last minute addition to our group that I still need to pick up. Also because my godson is coming along with his parents, I’ll need to drop him and his mum to the family summer cottage before we can continue to the gig, with the father tagging along for the show. And we will need to take a detour through Tampere to pick up Mi&Mi who are coming too. The traffic is a killer and the raging storm above is making any increase of speed a bad idea even if it wasn’t.

We manage to pick up the last member of our crew, and the weather seems to be getting worse by the minute. As the car slowly creeps past the First Ring Road I’m actually commenting out loud how we should have brought bicycles, not a car. I can feel the time slipping away. In case you didn’t realize yet, I’m in a bad mood. Frankly just moments away from stepping out of the car and walking home.

I already know we’re going to miss the show, but decide not to tell the others, just put on my game face and tell everyone we’ll do just fine.

Someone puts Vesa-Matti Loiri on the CD-player. I don’t like the guy. No, I don’t have a valid reason for my dislike, I just don’t. Hearing his voice puts me this close to calling it a day. As we approach the Third Ring Road and I feel something switch in the flow of the cars. Movement. Freedom. The old blue is going forward. I slide beneath the Ring Road and when we reach the other side, it’s like a whole different world.

The storm front is torn open in front of us, pillars of sunlight streaking across the open road like searchlights in the night. A familiar cover of a Finnish hit starts to play starts to play and somehow a glimmer of hope wriggles back into my heart. Could be that we make it, after all. Or if we don’t, might be a pleasant ride after all.

We pick up Mi&Mi from Tampere, the sun shines, time flows.

The drive to Provinssi is long, and the road narrow. We drop off my godson and his mother at the summer cottage. It’s drawing awfully close to the start of the gig. And at the cottage, I can start calculating the remaining time with certainty.

The facts are these: I might be able to drop the car-full of people near the entrance, but then I’ll have to find a parking space. And that won’t happen easy since it’s so late. I find my mind going through possible scenarios. None of them end in everyone in the car seeing the full Tori Amos show, at least without me getting my car towed.

I decide that I can live missing a part of the gig, and I know that some people in the car can’t. We arrive at Seinäjoki. I turn towards the festival area, stop the car near the entrance. It’s quarter to nine.

“Get out, I’ll follow you as soon as I get the car parked. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. See you soon.”

They disappear from my view. I look at the line of cars moving towards the designated parking area. My friends are happy. I can live with this. Not happy, but I’ll survive.

Two blocks later, I realize I’ve made the wrong turn and ended up on a dead-end back street. A dead-end back street with one free parking spot.

I jog to the gate. No idea how many minutes I have left, I don’t have time to check. The stage she’s performing at seems to be at the other side of the festival area.

I consider picking up the pace, but can’t be bothered – I’m already running late, might as well walk.

I see the tent. I don’t hear music.

The glimmer of hope I felt goes away. I had looked at the festival map wrong once again. Not the first time that happened.

Some people are coming out, I smile at them and sigh.

I step through the tent door.

First step in. A drumbeat.

Second step in. Second drumbeat.

I walk into the crowd.

And the crowd goes wild.

Neljä Ruusua – Kuka näkee

If you’re talking about Finnish pop music, it’s impossibly to make a list without mentioning these guys. The band of Ilkka Alanko, one of the Alanko musician siblings, Neljä Ruusua is one of those groups that truly managed to capture the feeling of the melancholic early 1990′s here and turn it into catchy pop songs. Melancholic, catchy, pop, with a bit of rock. The essential of Finnish popular music. They’re pretty blatantly stealing from Depeche Mode from time to time, but it works, so I don’t really complain. Ilkka has stuck to his band and they’ve pretty much stayed the course all through the years, but his brother Ismo has done loads of projects and is worth checking out. Finnish pop wouldn’t be the same without them.

Kotiteollisuus – Jos sanon

The definition of pop is a bit shady here. But I’m going with the “gets played in the regular radio stations” one. And thus, metal has been the way to go here. Lots of the big names fall into this genre. Kotiteollisuus, Nightwish, Mokoma, HIM, Lordi, all that.. We really love our metal. It plays on the pop channels all the time. We have radio stations that play pretty much nothing but it. Every local music award show seems to be dominated by these guys. And the long-haired metal guy is there as a pop icon along pretty girls and boys.

CMX – Ruoste

CMX, the brainchild of A.W. Yrjänä, started out as a punk band somewhere in the mid-80s. Since then they’ve manage to write one brilliant album after the other and managed to avoid getting stuck in a single genre. CMX has been everything from an epic space musical to progressive rock over the years. Ruoste (above) is one of those songs that, when it starts playing on the car stereo, at least one person in the car starts singing along. Usually followed by everyone else joining in. Something about it really touches the heart. Plus it’s a damn good song.

Irina – Vahva

I could make a post of their own about Finnish women artists, and probably will at some point. Irina, Jonna Tervomaa, Maija Vilkkumaa, Jenni Vartiainen, the list goes on. Singer-songwriters or just singers. Strong women personalities with something to say. Like quite a lot of good Finnish pop, they’re quite “rock-ish” in their sound.

YUP – Meitä odotellaan mullan alla

I could have probably mentioned YUP in the same sentence as CMX, but I love both of them way too much to slump them into one. They represent the two sides of the same coin for me – If they were people in an asylum, CMX would the serious one, insane in a calculating, dangerous fashion and YUP the quirky one, locked up in the mental ward because they’re breaking the norms.

Liisanpuisto – Toinen helsinki

Finnish hip hop is a thing that has been really on the “this can be called pop music” drive only from the turn of the millennium. Artists like Liisanpuisto, Sere, Fintelligens and others have paved the way for a thriving subculture over the last ten years. I’d like to say good things about the stuff that’s come out lately, but I’m more into the “classics”, I admit.

Zen Café – Mies jonka ympäriltä tuolit viedään

Not really my favorite band ever, or genre. But so popular here that I just have to mention it. I call it “the boy poet pop” – male singers, with lyrics about the modern life, commonplace situations and the angst of the man of today. Zen Café, Egotrippi, Herra Ylppö & Ihmiset represent this group quite well. And I know people will want to lynch me for grouping those three into the same category. Don’t really care.

PMMP – Pikkuveli

Pretty much like the previous but still distinct from them. The two bands, PMMP and Leevi and the Leavings. I don’t really know what is it about them that sets them apart from the previous genre, but they work much better as a whole. Touch something deeper than just the angst. They have a certain twist to them. Hard to describe, but very much worth getting to know.

Lauri Tähkä & Elonkerjuu – Pauhaava sydän

Lauri Tähkä is not really a good example of a genre and I’m not sure if it would warrant to get mentioned on its own, if it wasn’t for the fact that it represents the same Häjy culture as for example the Duudsonit. Also, they’re the closest thing to folk that gets on the pop charts these days.

Eläkeläiset – Humppasonni

I love cover versions, and Finnish humor music needs to be mentioned. Eläkeläiset is the best of both worlds. They’re pretty much like a drunk, Finnish version of Weird Al Yankovic. They’re also probably going to be representing Finland in the Eurovision song contest this year. Well, at least, hopefully will be.

Eppu Normaali – Tahroja paperilla

And then there is the “Old Guard”. I’m just going to lump all the classics here – Eppu Normaali, Popeda, Dingo, Juice Leskinen, Irwin Goodman, Rauli Badding Somerjoki and you can go further and further back. The ageless stuff that still gets air time on the radio these days.

Like said, I’ve probably forgotten the essentials. If you want, drop a note below on what I’ve missed and/or what you think should have been here.